Sometimes Pink stays almost in one spot for months and hardly goes out at all and that’s when we know that she’s planning her next escapade. For the last few weeks she’s been on look-out duty under the umbrella tree, barely moving at all, just staring along the Six Foot into Bugle Street, where the workmen are getting the drains up. They bring in bright new pipes of yellow plastic and lay them in the ground, and Pink must have liked the look of it all, because yesterday she wasn’t in her usual place when Bamber and Alleycat took their morning stroll and called her name in sharp voices. No, she was hiding at the end of one of the half buried pipes. I saw her little face looking up at me on my way to work and I knew she’d been there for hours, waiting to surprise me. I had to coax her to step up and climb to my hand and of course she made me late for work, and of course she thought it was rather fine to have scared everyone like that. We all thought she’d run away from home, but that’s the contrary sort of cat she is. One moment she’s the stay-at-home type, and the next she’s Miss Intrepid.